


Love Dwells Not in Our Will, or, Six More Sanditon Summers

by lost_in_a_good_book



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst, Gen, Illness, Occasional lighter moments, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Canon, Sidney Starts to Man Up, Sorrow, To Be Continued, Tongue Lashing Sanditon Style, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, sidlotte or not?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26133625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_a_good_book/pseuds/lost_in_a_good_book
Summary: In Sanditon each summer, Sidney and Charlotte’s paths continue to cross. Will their lives ever truly converge again? Or, the suffering of Mr. Sidney Parker, and the choices of Miss Charlotte Heywood.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood & James Stringer, Charlotte Heywood & Sidney Parker, Charlotte Heywood/James Stringer, Eliza Campion/Sidney Parker, Sidney Parker & Eliza Campion
Comments: 225
Kudos: 201





	1. Late Summer, 1818

**Author's Note:**

> The story begins with Sidney's point of view, but we will hear from Charlotte too.
> 
> I plan to post a new chapter every week or two.

\- - - - -

_Love dwells not in our will.  
Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot  
To strongly, wrongly, vainly love thee still._  


He knew it possible to put love behind you, no matter how true you thought it was; to recover from its pain, no matter how grave the injuries. 

Sidney had done so, once, though it had soured him for many years. 

When he had seen Charlotte’s wounded face as he’d closed the coach door between them, he had to acknowledge at last just how deeply he had hurt her. In the months that followed, he had tormented himself over his actions, fearing that she too might never be quite the same person again. 

And - when he had been honest with himself - dreading that in order for her to heal, she would have to stop caring for him; as he had stopped loving Eliza Campion.

\- - - 

This first summer after he had broken with her, Charlotte did not return to Sanditon until it was almost time for the regatta - and likely only then because Tom, more overwhelmed than ever with the rebuilding, had begged her to assist with it. She came, but as a guest of Lady Denham. Between the distance of Sanditon House from the town, and how busy Tom and Mary kept her with preparations, Sidney scarcely saw her until the day of the event, except to acknowledge each other, awkwardly, when passing in the street. At least, he thought, all the activity had restored some bloom to her complexion.

\- - - 

Upon the day, alone while readying his team’s boat, he heard her call from the slope above him, “One hour, Mr. Parker. I’m telling all the competitors.” She quickly started up the path, away from the river.

“Miss Heywood - ” he called back, then stopped as she turned to him, for he thought the color had gone from her cheeks. He tried to summon a smile as he walked towards her and asked, falsely hearty, “How do you rate the Parkers’ chance of success this year?”

“I am still no expert; I wish all the boats well.” She smiled faintly and moved away again.

“Miss Heywood!” he said swiftly, to keep her from leaving. She stopped but only regarded him over her shoulder with a slight frown. 

He could not help himself; he hurried until he was almost beside her before asking, his voice rough rather than lightly joking, as he’d intended, “Do you not remember last summer, when - ?”

She wheeled on him suddenly, glaring - his Charlotte, as he had known her at her most exasperating and endearing. “Of **course** I remember,” she whispered, almost scornfully. “But we cannot - **you** must not - speak of it again.” She took a breath, then said aloud with her voice quivering, “Ever!” before she ran from him.

Sidney did not row well that day, and for a second time the brothers Parker lost to the workmen’s boat. Distracted, he did not notice young Mr. Stringer’s wondering expression as the teams shook hands afterwards. Nor did he heed Eliza’s gossiping chatter as they left the event.

\- - - 

The next day, he heard that Miss Heywood had been persuaded to stay for the Midsummer’s Ball. 

Sidney wished to partner her (after the requisite turns with Eliza) in a country dance or two, during which he hoped to mend their relations, at least a little. But that evening, Eliza was especially clinging and he could not excuse himself from her side without vexing her.

Eliza also was particularly disagreeable, wounding her prey at each encounter, though with an innocent smile. Each time, the press of people moved them away before Sidney could intervene.

_“Miss Heywood, what an original gown! Did you bring it from your village?”_

_“Miss Heywood, your curls are charmingly disordered! Did you arrange them yourself?”_

_“Miss Heywood, Mary’s necklace is most becoming to you! How kind of her to let you borrow it.”_

_“Miss Heywood, how does your father’s farm do this summer?”_

Eliza resisted his attempts to pull her aside, choosing instead to stop and hold court with her London friends at a refreshments table, at which her victim just chanced to be standing. The huntress delivered what she meant to be the final blow, saying loudly enough to be heard well above the crowd: “Sidney, do you remember this time last year? It was not long after this ball, was it not, that you returned to London expressly to make me your proposal of marriage?” Before he could reply, she looked past him and quickly continued, “Miss Heywood, marriage must be even more on your mind now that a year has passed. Have you still not found someone you would wish to marry?”

Sidney could not look at Charlotte, and so missed the moment when, after a brief hesitation, she made a decision. He heard her reply lightly, “I feel I still have opportunities and time enough. After all, it took you ten years to find someone whom you could wish for, did it not?”

In the pause that followed, Sidney could see Eliza struggle to understand exactly how she had been insulted. Charlotte said calmly, though her color was high, “Excuse me; I see that Mary needs me,” then walked briskly away. 

He saw her nearly collide with James Springer. After a moment’s consultation, she allowed Springer to lead her towards the terrace, doubtless for some air and time to collect herself.

Sidney turned to Eliza, not quite meeting her eyes as he muttered, “Please excuse me as well. I feel in need of some tobacco.” He bowed slightly and made his way to the terrace as swiftly as he could through the throng; but upon arriving outdoors, found neither Charlotte nor Springer there.

He did not see Charlotte for the rest of the evening. He even hardened himself to visit the balcony; but it was vacant, and no small, brown-haired figure was to be seen among the whirling dancers below.

\- - -

Unexpectedly, Charlotte stayed on in Sanditon for the rest of the season. Whenever he came to the town on business, however, Fate gave Sidney no chance to converse with her and ask forgiveness. When he visited Tom’s office, she was never to be found there; when he called upon Lady Denham, Miss Heywood always had just left for a walk with a friend; when he was able to attend a tea or reception, he learned that, alas, she had accepted a previous invitation.

By chance, he was never in Sanditon’s parish church that August, when the banns were read.

\- - - 

On this September day, he stood on a rise overlooking the churchyard, where just a year ago he had been part of the joyful crowd witnessing Babbington’s marriage to Esther Denham. Eliza Campion had been beside Sidney then, taking note of any flaws in the simple country wedding as she planned their own London celebration, he remembered bitterly. 

Now he was alone, twisting his wedding ring in private misery as he watched another happy couple appear in the church’s doorway, to the cheers of the assembled well wishers.

\- - - - -

She saw him in the distance from her place at the top of the church steps, unmistakable for his imposing height and the cut of his greatcoat when its tails moved in the breeze. Her throat tightened, but she took a breath and carefully put that feeling into the secret place where she now hid away girlish sentiments. Then she returned her gaze to her newly made husband and gave him a beaming smile. 

His blond curls pinned in place by a borrowed top hat, James Stringer grinned down at her before he smoothed back her veil and bent to her for a kiss.

For Charlotte Heywood, grown less naive, had chosen a happiness that she felt was safely within her reach.

\- - - - -


	2. Early Summer, 1819

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following summer.

As her husband carefully helped her from the London coach, Charlotte thought how different it felt to be Sanditon this year. She knew herself no longer the naive girl excited by the novelty and possibilities of her first visit. Nor was she still the subdued young woman of last summer, worrying about the difficulties that her second stay might inflict upon her. 

This summer, James was loaned from his London apprenticeship to Mr. Tom Parker so that he might oversee, as junior architect, the building of the pagoda he had designed. Now that she could make the journey, Charlotte was joining him to establish their household here. 

Her path surely would be smoother now, she felt, as a resident rather than a visitor. It would not follow the direction that she once might have wished, but she had become a part of the town that she loved. 

\- - - - - 

The first time Sidney saw her that summer, he felt as if his heart had contracted in his chest. Across the square, Charlotte was talking to a neighbor, smiling radiantly as she displayed the swaddled child in her arms. He had known, of course; his sister-in-law had told him gently, and his wife spitefully. But knowing and seeing were not the same.

Dining with Tom and Mary that evening, he seemed to them distracted, especially whenever he had to converse with his nieces or nephew.

Later, he sat in the darkest corner of the inn’s common room and tried to drink himself into oblivion.

\- - - 

Upon his sudden return to London, Sidney immediately engaged a man of business to oversee his interests in Sanditon. In a letter to Tom, he claimed that his own business would keep him in London for this season. Though as he signed, he remembered Charlotte’s long-ago question, and, with a sigh, added a post scriptum that of course Tom could send for him if truly necessary.

Sidney had no intention of setting foot in that town again for any but the most pressing reasons.

\- - -

To Tom Parker, “truly necessary” naturally included his brother’s attendance at certain of Sandition’s public events.

Thus, on the day of the regatta, Sidney heard Charlotte’s now-familiar call from the hillside, “One hour until the race, Mr. Parker!”

He saw that she had the child, who was fretting and waving its arms, on her hip, while she also struggled to keep hold of a stack of record books. Without thinking, Sidney moved quickly to help, catching the ledgers just before they could land on the muddy path; but then he was unsure of how to return them without coming too near to her. He tried to hide his confusion by asking with a faint smile, “Is that a new crew member, Mrs. Stringer?”

Her dimples appeared, though she was still looking at the infant rather than at him, and she answered, “I hope so - one day!”

Sidney still could not help but try to prolong the moment with her. “Ah - I have not had the pleasure of being introduced….”

She looked at him briefly as she exclaimed, “Oh, I beg your pardon! Mr. Parker, may I present Master Jeremy Stringer? Master Jeremy, this is Mr. Sidney Parker.” She beamed at her son.

“Of the Sanditon Stringers, I presume?” Sidney responded, bowing correctly. In return, the baby made an indelicate noise.

Without ceremony, Charlotte snatched the books from Sidney’s arms, then hurried up the path, calling back over her shoulder, “Forgive us, but your further acquaintance will have to wait!” - for Master Jeremy appeared to be experiencing some sort of inner distress.

Sidney’s smile faded as he realized that Charlotte had scarcely looked at him during their conversation; all her attention had been for her child.

\- - -

He saw her again just before the start of the race, when, to his dismay, he found that his wife had accosted her not far from the bookseller’s stall. As he lengthened his stride to reach them, Charlotte, who had been avoiding Eliza’s gaze by looking past her shoulder, suddenly started. Crying “Here!,” she thrust her baby into Eliza’s arms, then hurried towards the tent. Sidney saw what she had noticed and ran after her, feigning not to hear a summons from his wife.

A young boy, intent on retrieving some tempting item, was climbing the bookshelves to reach it; but the shelves had been put up in haste and were not sturdy. As the planks swayed, Charlotte pulled the child to the ground and then huddled over him as books began to rain down. Sidney threw himself upon Charlotte just as the shelves collapsed on top of them.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Stringer?” he asked, as he sat up, shrugging off pieces of wood and paper, and helped her do the same. Concerned first with the boy, who had begun to cry, she did not answer him. He persisted, touching her shoulder and asking more loudly, “Charlotte, are you well?”

Distracted, she glanced up at him and said, “Well enough - help me check this boy for injuries!”

Sidney helped her coax the boy to stretch out his limbs so she could check his body. After she had done so thoroughly, she said, half to herself, “I cannot find anything wrong, but then why is there blood on his clothing?”

“Stop for a moment and let me see you!” Sidney exclaimed, taking her hands. He turned them over, then examined her arms. As he moved her right arm, she took a sharp breath; then he saw the long cut. Tugging off his neckcloth, he said softly as he tied it gently around her wound, “It is you who are bleeding, my dear.” Aloud to the crowd that had gathered, he ordered, “Find Dr. Fuchs!”

Her eyes had widened, but she was flushed rather than pale, looking at his hand on her arm. “I will be all right!!” she said firmly, trying to extract herself from his hold. “I must get the boy to his parents!”

“Not yet - keep still!” he said, even more firmly; then not quite under his breath, continued, “For once, would you **please** do what I tell you?!”

********

********

Her dimples appeared again, but when she looked up at his face, she hastily turned back to the child and made herself busy with straightening his clothes.

Sidney looked down and swallowed, knowing she had recognized how very much he wanted to kiss her at that moment.

The arrival of both the doctor and James Stringer gave Sidney a few moments in which to compose himself. By the time Charlotte dared to glance at him again, Sidney’s face showed nothing but a polite concern.

As Dr. Fuchs and James began to lead Charlotte towards the apothecary’s stall, she called back, still not quite meeting Sidney’s eyes, “Oh, Mr. Parker! Would you be so good as to reclaim Jeremy from your wife?” 

“Of course!” Sidney responded, and looked around for them; but he could not see Eliza’s rather elaborate bonnet. With a frown, he made his way through the crowd to the spot where he had last seen her. There, he found only an older couple, unknown to him, but the wife was holding Jeremy.

“Mr. Sidney Parker, I assume?” asked the man. At his nod, the lady stepped forward and, to Sidney’s astonishment, placed the baby in his arms, while her husband explained, “Your wife needed to excuse herself and asked us to take charge of the young man until someone came for him.”

“Ah,” said Sidney. “Thank you for - .“ But the couple was hurrying away towards the race course.

He and Master Jeremy regarded each other thoughtfully for a few moments, before the child began to squirm and crow upon seeing his father appear from the crowd. Looking down at the boy, Sidney experienced a pang of feeling that he later recognized as envy.

\- - -

“There you are, young’un!” James exclaimed.

“Mr. Stringer,” Sidney Parker said wryly, “I believe this sturdy young fellow is yours?” 

“Indeed, sir!” James said with a grin as he skillfully extracted the baby from Parker’s hold. “Thank you for your assistance!” He added, with a bit of awkwardness for mentioning her to Mr. Parker, “And thank you for coming to Charlotte’s aid at the bookstall.”

“No need; I’m sure you would have done the same if it had been my wife in the same situation.” Parker paused, then added in a low voice, his face difficult to read, “Although I am not sure that my wife would have shown such quick thinking and courage in the circumstances as yours did.”

Uncertain how to respond to such a statement, James took refuge in looking round to see if Charlotte was coming yet.

“I will, em, let the starter know that we need to delay the race by a few minutes.” Parker said. He gave a small bow, then made for the starting line. 

James’s gaze followed him, as he thought that he might never entirely understand the middle Parker brother. Then he took firmer hold of Jeremy and went to find his wife. 

\- - - 

Lord Babbington’s boat won the men’s race. For, distracted by the accident and its aftermath, neither Sidney nor James had rowed his best.

\- - - - -

That night, Charlotte’s thoughts kept her awake after they had put out the candles. _Why did he still have to speak to her that way - to **look** at her that way? Why did he provoke her to remember?_

She sighed, for she feared he had not become reconciled to his choice, as she had to hers. (Indeed, she now did not see her marriage as something she needed to accept, but as a new adventure!) Since Sidney Parker’s engagement, however, she had seen him revert to the outwardly unfeeling man she had first known - though now at least he was considerably more polite. But she had seen moments of pain showing through his mask. 

_She must try to be charitable towards him, but without offering the smallest possibility of going back to what they once had been,_ she resolved. With that, she moved to curl up against her husband, then put her arm around him. She matched her breathing to his and so fell quickly asleep.

\- - - - - 

The Parker couple’s ride back to London was punctuated by Eliza’s reproofs and accusations. Sidney’s biting responses, especially those on the subject of women who could not be relied on to look after an infant for even a few minutes, did not improve matters. The last leg of their journey passed entirely in strained silence, each party staring out of their carriage windows.

\- - - 

A week later, Eliza declined to travel to Sanditon for the Midsummer’s Ball, pleading a cold. Sidney, while outwardly expressing disappointment, rejoiced in private. For the first time in almost two years, he would have a chance to dance and speak with Charlotte without Eliza looking on. 

But once at the ball, he was kept from Mrs. Stringer by a constant press of people surrounding her. As the evening wore on and the crowd increased, he caught only glimpses, the company parting for a moment to reveal her - having her hand bowed over, a group laughing at one of her remarks, she and her husband exchanging a look. As the movement of the ball ebbed and flowed, she seemed to Sidney like a mysterious creature floating at the very edge of his vision, more sensed than seen. 

He still hoped for just a few moments with her, to create new memories that he could hide deep in his heart. But late in the evening, during a dull conversation into which Tom had pulled him, Sidney looked about and noticed that only summer visitors remained. 

Upon enquiring of his sister-in-law, he learned that the townspeople had begun their own tradition of gathering on the Regatta grounds to celebrate. Focused as he then became on retrieving his hat and walking-stick, he did not notice Mary’s pitying look.

\- - -

Sidney walked briskly towards the river. When he reached the top of the path to the grounds, he stopped in surprise, for he had expected a simple gathering. Instead, clusters of torches had been thrust into the dirt every few yards to provide light. To one side were several tables generously supplied with food and drink. There was even a band of a half-dozen musicians, and perhaps a score of people were dancing to a lively reel.

He saw Charlotte and James among them. Barefoot, she was wearing neither spencer nor shawl, and her hair had come down. The curls flew loose around her face, just as her dress flowed about her legs while her husband led her through the pattern. 

Hidden in the dark at the top of the slope, Sidney watched them for a few minutes. This was both his Charlotte, whose face glowed with the joy of dancing, and another, more confident woman he did not know - who was comfortable in herself, chatting easily with the other dancers as they passed, entirely natural in this habitat.

When at the end of the reel, James led her out of the circle of torches and they embraced fondly, Sidney felt a surge of jealousy so hot that it brought the blood to his face. He turned abruptly on his heel and strode away, stabbing his walking-stick into the ground as he went.

\- - -

At the Assembly Room, he stalked into the serving area and gathered up an armful of wine bottles. The scowl he gave to the waiter who tried to question him would have made even a lord step aside.

\- - -

From thence, Sidney repaired to the beach, where he walked for a while, his head lowered and his thoughts disordered. Eventually he came to a few flat rocks; there he sat down and arranged his prizes. 

He worked his way through the bottles steadily, clearing his palette with tobacco between each, until he thought he had quieted his mind, pushing away memories, anger, and wishes for what might have been.

The sky was growing lighter. Sidney rubbed his eyes; they felt as if he’d gotten sand in them, nearly matching the itch of his night’s beard. He looked down at himself - his neckcloth missing, waistcoat askew, breeches stained, and boots both mud-splashed and sandy - and wondered what Charlotte would think if she came upon him in this state. 

Quite suddenly, his eyes filled; then after a few unsteady breaths, Sidney finally gave way to the pain of the last two years. Bending his head to his knees, he at last let himself weep for every bit of happiness that he had sacrificed.

\- - - 

Despite many invitations from Mary and entreaties from Tom, Sidney refused absolutely to return to Sanditon for the rest of that year.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: Thank you for all the comments and kudos on Chapter 1! Please let me know what you think of this installment.


	3. Very Early Summer, 1820

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the third summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Please note the changed warning and rating.**  
>   
>  Thank you again for all your kudos and passionate comments so far. They've really helped me keep going as this story grows!  
>   
> This summer will be covered in at least two chapters.  
> 

At the very beginning of that summer, Mrs. Stringer was to be one of a party accompanying Lady Susan Worcester to the Continent; Sidney had learned from Tom and Mary, who would be adding young Jeremy to their nursery for a time, that Charlotte would be abroad for a month. Her husband would join the party for a week or so, to study the great houses they would visit, looking for ideas to bring back for his apprenticeship. 

Eliza Parker, with her unerring sense of the most notable social events, had ensured that she and Sidney would be among those attending the departure.

Thus as he watched Mrs. Stringer surreptitiously through lowered lashes, Sidney saw her eyes widen when she noticed him among the well wishers. He could tell she was shocked by his appearance, for he knew he looked every bit the libertine he had become again during the past fall and winter. But he could not make himself care, as he was saying goodbye to Charlotte again, still only a spectator to her happiness.

\- - -

Could not care, until while stopping in Sanditon for business on his reluctant way back to London, Sidney noticed that he could not even keep up with his plump brother Arthur, whether at swimming or even walking. Somehow, just after that visit, he found that Babbington or one of his brothers always seemed to be with him in his free moments, finding new distractions that did not involve alcohol, tobacco, or other dissipations. And Mary made sure that he stayed at Trafalgar House when he was in Sanditon, sharing their meals and their family life.

After a fortnight or so of this changed living, even Eliza acknowledged his improvement. Sidney supposed he was glad that his looks at least could still please her. Over the past autumn and winter, their marriage had changed subtly, but he had not cared enough about anything at the time to wonder what was different. Now he resolved to pay more attention. Still, he wished that he had never promised Charlotte to try and make his wife happy, for that task had become more and more difficult as time passed.

\- - - - - 

France delighted Charlotte. There was so much to see, and do, on her first foreign trip that she laughed to think of that green girl for whom Sanditon had been the greatest adventure of her life. 

A vexing part of her mind, though, **would** think of how Sidney Parker had looked when they were seen off on their journey. Outwardly, he had looked quite disreputable, rather than rakish; and in his gaze was a flatness that she had never seen in him before. 

She wished that in some way, their lives could have been different, so that he and his wife could have been in their party. She would have liked to trade quotations with him as they all toured historic sites. 

Of course, once James had joined the trip, Charlotte had thrilled to watch his reactions while he drank in the buildings, both modern and ancient. But while he was quite well-studied in architecture and construction, James had never had the leisure to pursue other kinds of reading. So now she tucked away her disloyal wish and took her husband’s arm, discreetly hugging it so that he would look at her and smile in his way that said he would kiss her then and there if he could.

\- - - - - 

Towards the end of that month, a letter arrived in Sanditon from France. It sat with the rest of the Parkers’ post until various disturbances with the children had been resolved, when Mary could sit for a moment with a cup of tea. 

The cup sat cooling after she read the first sentences. Hastily, she read the rest, then hurried to find her husband.

\- - -

By good fortune, Sidney was in Sanditon that day to meet with the other investors, so Mary and Tom could seek his advice. They watched anxiously as he read the letter, seeing his hand start to shake as he studied the crossed sentences. 

“I must go there immediately!” he said. “Tom, find me the fastest possible way to get to Le Havre. Mary, please write to Eliza and let her know where I’ve gone - “ here Sidney remembered to breathe “ - and also to Georgiana and ask her urgently to meet me there.” 

Mary objected, “Sidney, do you really think you should - ”

“I must. Yellow fever is a contagion, and soon - if not already - they will not be allowed near each other. I can go between them, for I cannot contract it again.”

“But Lady Susan is - ” 

He retorted, “Unless she has had the fever, her ladyship cannot do this either.” He paused, his eyes unfocused for a moment, then met their gaze as he said, “James Stringer may well be dying.”

\- - - - -

Though the packet boat to Le Havre made the crossing in good time, Sidney was almost frantic with impatience by the time they landed. He had to try several carriages before he found a driver willing to take him from the port to the city’s hospital, given the outbreak of fever. 

\- - -

He found there that they had two rooms to themselves: one for the patient and his caretakers; the other, removed from the sick room, for Charlotte and her friend to wait for news. When Sidney entered, he saw Charlotte asleep in a chair; she was frowning in her sleep and under her eyes were the dark circles of fatigue. 

Lady Susan, with an expression of reserved surprise, gestured for him to join her outside the room.

“Mr. Parker,” she said, once they were some distance from the doorway. “This is no time for the proprieties; I must be blunt and ask, what are you doing here?”

“Lady Worcester,” he replied with a slight bow, “Thank you - I will be equally candid. My sister-in-law had a letter from Mrs. Stringer with news of her husband’s illness. I am here because of my experiences with yellow fever on Antigua, to assist however I may.”

“Assist - how?” she asked sharply. “What can you do that the physicians cannot?”

Slowly, Sidney asked, “I understand that Mr. Stringer relapsed after the first course of fever. Have the physicians said… will he live?”

She answered with a sigh. “They will not declare one way or the other. But I feel that there is not much hope, given how long he has now been ill.”

“Then, if he continues to decline, I can help the Stringers make their farewells.” At Lady Susan’s astonished look, he explained, “Because I have had the fever, I can go between the rooms.” He lowered his eyes, then looked up at her intently. “It may be a foolish idea, but at least I could pass messages.”

She gazed beyond him as she considered this. 

After a few moments, Sidney added, his voice almost breaking, “Please - I need the chance to help in some way!” 

She looked back at him and said directly, “You must think only of  **her** needs now, not your own - whatever those may be. Can you do that?”

He took a deep breath, frowning, then said with a sharp nod, “Yes. You are right. I know, for her sake, I  **must** do that. So advise me, please - should I wait with you until she wakes, or should I visit Mr. Stringer first?”

\- - - 

Sidney recognized the sickroom’s smell; he had visited too many of them on Antigua ever to forget it. But James Stringer, while gaunt and jaundiced, was more alert than Sidney had expected, for his eyes fluttered open as Sidney drew up a chair to the bed, and his gaze sharpened in recognition. So perhaps there was still hope.

“Mr. Parker!” Stringer exclaimed, his voice roughened by his illness. “What are you doing here?”

“Stay, stay, stay!” Sidney cried out, for Stringer had tried to sit up in the bed. He carefully pushed the younger man down, exclaiming, “You must not tire yourself!”

Stringer slumped back against the pillows, coughing; when he brought his hands away from his mouth, Sidney saw the blackened blood. Stringer saw it too, and Sidney watched a shadow pass over his face before Stringer looked at him again.

“You must not be in this room - ‘tis the yellow jack and a contagion! They will not even let me see Charlotte….”

“I know it is, Mr. Stringer,” Sidney said quietly. “I had it on Antigua, so it cannot affect me again. My sister-in-law had a letter from your wife; I am here in case I can be of any assistance to either of you.”

“Ah,” Stringer replied. He was silent for a while, casting an occasional glance at Sidney while he wiped his bloodied hands on some linen. When he’d cleaned them, he straightened his shoulders, caught Sidney’s eye, and said slowly, “I don’t know that you can be of any help now….” His voice trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

Carefully, Sidney answered the unasked question. “If there are any messages you would like to send to Mrs. Stringer, or she to you, I might convey them.” He attempted a reassuring smile. “For in my experience, physicians do not think of the needs of their patients’ families at such a time.”

“What I might want to convey to Charlotte are things you may not want to hear, Mr. Parker!” Stringer exclaimed, but softened that statement with a trace of a grin. Then he coughed and added soberly, “In all candor, I’m more concerned about their needs  **after** this.” 

Sidney leaned forward in his chair and said, “Tell me, please.”

\- - -

When he returned to the waiting room, Charlotte had awakened. “Mr. Parker!” she exclaimed, standing to greet him. “Susan told me you were here, though I still do not quite understand…. But you have seen James?” - the last asked eagerly.

He took her hand and bowed over it briefly as he answered, “I have, yes.”

“How did he look to you?”

Sidney was glad to be able to say honestly, “Better than I had anticipated.” But at her sudden hopeful expression, he had to ask, “What have the physicians told you?”

Hearing the meaning between the words she repeated to him, he knew what was likely to happen.

\- - - 

Two days later, Georgiana arrived. She flew into the room and straight at Charlotte, who scarcely had time to exclaim before her friend was embracing her fiercely. 

“Sidney asked me to come. I too have had the fever, so I am here to do whatever I can to support you. Let me just speak with Sidney for a moment and I will return to you!”

Georgiana pulled Sidney from the room, then asked urgently, “How is Mr. Stringer?”

“Failing. The physicians think he will fall into the profound sleep of the disease within the next day or two.”

Georgiana’s eyes widened, but she asked, “So how can I be of use?”

“I had thought that I could convey messages between Charlotte and James - ” At Georgiana’s doubtful look, he winced, then continued, “I know - I was a fool, and James rightly refused me! But  **you** could do so without embarrassment on anyone’s part, I think. And - if Charlotte dislikes the idea, you might suggest, just in case it is needed, that they deserve a proper parting.”

\- - -

Sidney did not learn what the couple had to say to each other, but he saw the tears standing in Georgiana’s eyes as she went between them. 

After James fell unconscious, they could only wait.

\- - - 

Sidney was not present when James died, for he had gone to prepare for the burial. He knew they would not be permitted to bring home a fever victim's coffin, so he had spent a long day searching first for a Protestant cemetery, then for a pastor to perform the rites.

When he returned to their waiting room, he instantly saw the change. Lady Susan had her arms around Charlotte, whose face was more stricken than he had ever known it, and Georgiana was holding her hand. Her ladyship gently moved her burden into Georgiana’s embrace, and with her glance, directed Sidney to accompany her from the room.

“When?” he asked simply.

“About an hour and a half ago.” Lady Susan sighed. “At least the physicians told us that he went quietly at the end.”

“Thank God. How is - ?”

“Mr. Parker?” they heard. Returning quickly, they found Charlotte on her feet, though still clutching Georgiana’s arm.

“Mrs. Stringer,” Sidney said, struggling to get out the words, “I am so very sorry for your loss!”

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice shaking. “They tell me that I will not be able to bring James… his body home. Is there nothing to be done?”

He again saw her courage in a moment of disaster, and something in his heart tore apart. But he could permit only a friend’s concern to show on his face. 

So Sidney replied delicately, “I fear not, since he was a fever victim, and both France and England have strict rules. But I have taken the liberty of arranging a funeral for him here.”

“Oh - I thank you for that,” she said more quietly, “But - then I will not be able to see that his grave is cared for!” She brushed tears from her cheeks.

“Please do not worry,” he responded, as gently as he had ever spoken. “When you are ready, you must let me know what kind of memorial you want for his grave. I will see it done, then I or one of my men will visit the site whenever we are in Le Havre; we travel here quite often for business.” 

“Th- thank you, Mr. Parker,” she stammered, then abruptly sat down again.

Sidney caught Lady Susan’s eye; silently, they agreed that Charlotte must rest.

\- - -

The burial was held the next day but one. 

Charlotte held up bravely until she had to toss her handful of soil onto James’ coffin. Sidney could not hear what she murmured, but even through her veil, he could see her eyes overflowing.

When it was Sidney’s turn, he said, low, “I gave you my word, and I will keep it!”

They sailed on the next packet for England.

\- - - - -

The weather in the Channel was as bad as Sidney had ever seen it. Most of the passengers stayed below, but Sidney needed fresh air, even with the lashing wind and rain. Through the downpour, he saw a small, dark figure come on deck, struggling to keep the cloak of her hood up in the wind.

\- - -

Sidney had held her only a few times - the first awkward waltz in Sanditon, the enchanted dance in London, their only kiss, protecting her with his body at the bookstall. And now, on the boat bringing them home, she cried in his embrace.

He had run to her and caught her when the ship rose suddenly and she stumbled. She had raised her wide eyes to his and he had felt her desperation as if it were his own. Gently, he had lifted her hood to cover her hair - then suddenly she was sobbing against his chest and his arms were around her.

Saying “Hush…” over and over again, he led her to a spot a little out of the wind. There, he could not tell how much time passed as he cradled her, fighting the urge to place his forehead against her own, repeating and repeating to himself,  _ “Her needs, not yours!” _

Eventually, she drew a shaking breath and stepped away from him. She lifted her head and said, “Please forgive me. I - “

He interrupted her, saying, “There is nothing for which you need to ask forgiveness!”

Charlotte gave him a small, sad smile; then she turned and hurried towards the stairs to the lower deck.

He could only watch her go, his hands clenched behind his back.

\- - - - -

Upon landing in Portsmouth, Charlotte looked lost amidst the other travelers at the docks. Rather than ask her to make a decision, Sidney took it upon himself to hire a coach to take their small party to Sanditon right away. 

\- - - 

They arrived at Trafalgar House late in the evening, but candles in the first-floor windows showed they were expected. 

Behind the footman, Tom and Mary quickly appeared in the hall. Mary rushed to embrace Charlotte, murmuring a mixture of greetings and condolences. When they stepped apart, Charlotte barely holding back tears, Mary said gently, “Jeremy is asleep, but you’ll want to see him, of course.” Charlotte nodded mutely, then Mary led her up the stairs, Georgiana following behind. 

Sidney felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder; he turned and gave him a quick but hard embrace. Tom, for once without words, stepped back and examined his younger brother’s face for a moment, then led him into the library with, “A drink and warm yourself by the fire, I think.” 

\- - -

After several minutes lost in a brown study, Sidney found Tom watching him with concern. 

At his look, Tom gestured helplessly and said, “I do not know what to say - or do! How is she?”

“As you might expect,” Sidney answered softly. “I think we were able to spare her the worst of James’s illness, but still - she has buried her husband.”

“Mary and I have been worrying - do you know… how she has been left, exactly?”

“I understand, with very little. I had hoped that with your knowledge of the town, you might have a bit more information.”

“I know that Young Stringer inherited their house, and the one next to it - Old Stringer was canny to have bought it. So we may be able to do something with that.’’

“Then you’ll help - to take care of her?”

“Of course! Mary and I have talked, and Charlotte is like a part of our family - whatever we can do!”

Sidney felt some of the weight on his shoulders lifted. He stood and embraced Tom again, for longer this time. When he broke away, he asked a little gruffly, “Have you and Mary had any other ideas?”

“A few, but Mary advised that we wait and see what Charlotte wants to do next. And how much assistance she may be willing to accept.”

“Both good points,” Sidney acknowledged, and smiled a little, thinking of her stubbornness.

“We should talk to Fred Robinson tomorrow,” Tom added. At Sidney’s raised eyebrow, he explained, “I believe that the stonemasons also may be able to help somewhat.”

\- - -

Charlotte went into her house to put away James' bags, at least. When, much later, she returned to Trafalgar House, her eyes were red and swollen. But she calmly told her friends that she wished to go home to her family in Willingden, at least for a while.

Both Georgiana and Sidney gently insisted on accompanying her.

\- - - - - 

During the trip, Sidney could not stop worrying. Mr. Robinson had assured him and Tom that the masons would see that Mrs. Stringer, as a widow of one of their brotherhood, would never want for the essentials of food, clothing, or fuel for herself and her son. But at some point, Sidney thought, the building-out of Sanditon would end. Would the masons then have funds to provide for the Stringers? And did not that support also depend on Charlotte even wanting to return to Sanditon, rather than remaining with her family?

When he thought that she might stay in Willingden, Sidney felt a moment of selfish need - hoping that she would indeed choose Sandinton, or else he might never see her again. But then he resolutely put his own desires and fears out of his mind (though not out of the deep recesses of his heart), so that he could attend solely to **her** needs.

If he could just think of some way to help Charlotte, he might finally begin to make amends for all the pain he had caused her.

\- - - - - - - - 

\- - - - - - - - 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3:
> 
> Please, please forgive me, Young Stringer lovers!
> 
> To all my readers: While there may be some moments of sadness to come, this is as grim as a chapter will get, I promise you!
> 
> In the next installment (hoping that you’ll stick with this story, despite what the characters have been put through) - This third summer, continued:
> 
>   * In Willingden, Mr. Heywood has Things To Say to Mr. Sidney Parker
>   * Charlotte decides on her next steps
>   * Sidney returns to London, and we see Eliza’s reaction to his absence
>   * And Charlotte and Sidney meet again in Sanditon; afterwards, he makes a decision.
> 

> 
> Comments are always most welcome!


	4. Early Summer, 1820 - continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third summer, continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all your comments so far. It means a lot to me that, with so many Sanditon fics to choose from, you're reading and engaged with mine! (Kudos are nice too, if you don't want to leave a comment.)

Willingden, Sidney thought wryly as they drove through the village, was every bit as rustic as Charlotte had made it out to be. But its quiet might be what she needed, at least for a while, to start recovering from her great loss.

He smiled as the coach drew up before the Heywood home, for it reminded him of the house of his mother’s parents; old, half-timbered, and rambling with the additions of a century or two. A wave of young children burst from the house and ran shouting towards them, their parents and older siblings staying behind in the doorway and on the steps. Sidney saw Charlotte draw a deep breath and summon up a weak smile while she carefully passed Jeremy to Georgiana’s maid.

As he handed down the ladies from the carriage, moving various children aside to make room, Sidney sensed that he was being observed. From the corner of his eye, he could see the parents’ reserved looks.

“Mama, Papa, you remember Miss Lambe?” Charlotte asked. The customary bows, curtsies, and greetings ensued.

“And will you allow me to introduce Mr. Sidney Parker, the brother of Mr. Tom Parker of Sanditon?” she continued. “Mr. Parker, this is my father, Mr. Charles Heywood, and my mother, Mrs. Heywood.” More bows, curtsies, and polite murmurs - but Sidney saw Mr. Heywood’s deep frown, and Mrs. Heywood’s surprised expression.

\- - -

Afternoon tea with the family made Sidney uneasy; even Georgiana fit in better than he did, as she had visited the family before. Mr. and Mrs. Heywood chatted with her easily, while regarding him with cautious looks, as did Charlotte’s oldest sister. Even more awkward was that he and Georgiana would need to stay with the Heywoods, for the village’s only inn would be filled that night with people arriving for the week’s market days. 

Supper was a little more convivial. Georgiana applied herself to keeping the conversation flowing, and surprised Sidney with how well she did. He himself made an effort to contribute occasionally without being obtrusive. But his mind was occupied with how Charlotte’s parents were behaving towards him; they were polite, but quite restrained. What had she told them?

\- - -

The Heywoods kept farmers’ hours and retired much earlier than Sidney was accustomed to. He sat awake for quite some time, watching the fire and fretting. He’d been sad to see that Lady Denham’s assumptions about Charlotte’s circumstances were correct. The Heywoods, while doing well enough by country standards, were likely only a few bad harvest years away from difficulties.

No drowsiness came to him, so he went in search of some reading matter. He was browsing through the contents of the small library when he noticed that there suddenly was more light in the room. Holding the second candle was Mr. Heywood, who said laconically, “Good - you’re still dressed. Please walk with me.”

In a few moments, Sidney found himself in the barn. After his host had checked on a cow who had recently calved, and her offspring, he turned to Sidney and gestured for him to seat himself on a haybale.

“Now, Mr. Parker,” said Mr. Heywood. “Just why are you here?”

“I did not think the ladies should travel by themselves from Sanditon.”

“My daughter has made that trip, by herself, many times before.”

“Though not with a young child,” Sidney said, beginning to wonder where this was leading.

“No. But from what I’ve heard the past few years, you should know her to be quite a capable young woman.” 

Sidney paused for a moment to try and parse that statement, then said more slowly, “She is - very capable indeed. But since Mr. Stringer died, she has… needed the support of her friends. I only wanted to be available should there be any assistance needed on the journey.”

Mr. Heywood made an indeterminate sound in his throat, before resuming the inquiry. “And now?”

“Now…?”

“Now that she is home with her family, you’ll be returning to London?”

“Of course.” Sidney added, “I had thought to stay a few days to see if Mrs. Stringer wanted to travel on to London in order to vacate their lodgings there; if so, I could escort her.” 

“And what will your wife have to say to that?”

Sidney said stiffly, “I fail to see what my wife has to do with it.”

“She may have an opinion on the matter. As do I. I am not comfortable, sir, with a married man taking an interest in my daughter - my newly widowed daughter!”

Sidney jumped to his feet, crying, “I assure you, sir - !”

“Your assurances will not hold much weight with me, Mr. Parker, indeed,” Mr. Heywood interrupted. “Not after you should have considered yourself engaged to my daughter, based on your conduct towards her!”

Sidney struggled to find the words for a response as Mr. Heywood continued angrily.

“You rode alone with her in a closed carriage, not only in London, but half way to Gretna Green. In front of a crowd at a regatta, you took her boating, alone. You took her on a long walk out of town, without a chaperone, and then you presumed to kiss her. You even started to make her a proposal of marriage. Then you leave and return, but engaged to another woman! So if my daughter could not rely on your professions of affection or even your honor, how can I trust your assurances?”

Sidney had flushed and was holding himself under tight control so as not to throw a punch at Mr. Heywood. He said, his jaw clenched, “If she told you all that, did she not also tell you the reason why I had to marry elsewhere? That I had an obligation to my family?”

“Oh, she said that you did it for your family, but that is all she said, try as we all might to learn more from her! You only have her to thank that I did not press you for breach of promise!”

“Breach of promise? But I was never able to make her a proposal - “

“A trifling distinction, sir, to have been only a few words shy of doing so!” Mr. Heywood looked as though he’d like to strike Sidney. “Mr. Parker, do you truly not understand that you broke Charlotte’s heart? And very nearly her spirit?”

With that, Sidney felt as though the man **had** struck him; he sat down abruptly and put his head in his hands. Mr. Heywood waited; finally Sidney said, in a shaking voice, “It might have been better if you indeed had pressed suit.”

“What do you mean?”

“At least then your daughter would have some funds of her own now, from the settlement.” Sidney looked up, and let Mr. Heywood see a little of his pain on his face. “You are quite right, sir; I treated her most dishonorably. And I have lived with that knowledge **every day** of the past few years.” 

Mr. Heywood also sat then, across the stall from Sidney, and asked more quietly, “What could drive a gentleman to do such a thing?”

“My family.” Sidney stood and began to pace. “I am amazed that your daughter did not tell you; she had every right to disclose our unfortunate secret! Did she tell you about the fire, at least?”

“She did.”

“After the fire, I learned that Tom - my elder brother, the projector of Sanditon, had not insured the work. His principal investor, the great lady of the town, threatened to call in his extensive debts to her, which surely would have sent Tom to debtors’ prison. Your daughter, bless her, persuaded the lady to give us time to find the money, but we were granted only a week. I went straight to London, but no bank would help, and I could find no other source of such funds in that time than... than the lady who became my wife.” 

He stopped pacing and dared to look at Mr. Heywood. “Please believe me, sir, when I tell you that only the prospect of the lives of my brother’s wife and children being ruined beyond all recovery could have made me cry off my intentions towards Charlotte!”

In response, Mr. Heywood only stared at Sidney, frowning, for an uncomfortable time. At last, he said reluctantly, “I suppose I must accept your explanation; it is, after all, past and done with. But it does not justify why you went to Le Havre, and why you are here **now,** almost three years after you broke with her.”

Sidney sat down again and said simply, “When I heard of James’ illness, I only knew that I must help however I could; I did not think beyond that. And afterwards, I could not in all conscience leave her to fend for herself when she was in such shock. You cannot think I would take advantage of her at such a time!”

“Perhaps not.” Mr. Heywood started to say more, then sighed before he continued. “But I am still not satisfied as to why, once you had brought her back to England, you came with Charlotte to Willingden.”

“I also came - because I wanted to speak with **you.”** At Mr. Heywood’s look of surprise, Sidney went on, “I do not know how to put this delicately enough; forgive me. I learned from James in Le Havre that your daughter would not be well situated after his death, and I wanted to offer you whatever help with her support you would be willing to accept.”

“And what would you expect in return, Mr. Parker?” Mr. Heywood asked, his tone suddenly cold again.

Sidney recognized the implication and rose to his feet, saying loudly, “Nothing, sir!” He paced to the other end of the stall and back, then said, his voice rough, “In fact, if you accept my help, I would greatly prefer that your daughter never know of it!”

“Oh, she won’t know, for I can take care of her!”

Sidney regarded the older man for some moments before he asked, quietly, “I am sure that you can, but would it not be easier with some additional funds? And you are a man of some years; what will happen to a widow with a child when you are not here to support her?”

“Her brothers - “

Sidney interrupted, “May have every good intention of providing for her. But you are a man of some experience, sir; you must have seen how often the best intentions falter, even in loving families such as yours.” He pressed on, “And are you not assuming that Charlotte will wish to remain in Willingden? She has seen a little of the world now; what if she would be happiest living elsewhere?”

“Those concerns are all very well, sir,” Charlotte’s father replied, “But they don’t make it any more appropriate for a young widow to be provided for by anyone outside her family! And again, I must question your intentions when you would even suggest such an idea!”

“My intentions - ” here Sidney took a deep breath, trying to speak calmly “- are solely to fulfill the promise I made to Mr. Stringer. He asked me to see that Charlotte would be taken care of. And I gave him my word that I would do so.”

“He hardly could have meant for his wife to be supported by a married man!”

“Of course not!” Sidney exclaimed. “But James knew that I have, or can make, connections that would allow me to help, in acceptable ways. I hope that you will find it in you to agree to that sort of help.”

Mr. Heywood stood, then took several turns around the stall as he thought. Finally, he turned back to Sidney and asked, somewhat grudgingly, “So what ‘acceptable ways’ of helping **did** you have in mind, Mr. Parker?”

\- - - 

After a small glass of brandy, the gentlemen retired for the night. Curiously, Mr. Heywood had clapped Sidney on the shoulder before they parted. Sidney, though feeling only slightly less worried, was nevertheless finally able to sleep.

\- - - - -

The next morning, he stepped out into the hall as Charlotte and Georgiana, with young Jeremy, were doing the same. As Sidney caught up to them, he asked, “May I have a moment, ladies?”

“Of course,” Charlotte replied.

“I will be returning to Sanditon this morning to collect my own carriage, and from there, I am on to London. Georgiana, will you wish to accompany me?”

Exchanging a glance with Charlotte, Georgiana replied, “Thank you, but no, Sidney; I will be staying here a few days more.”

“Very well. Mrs. Stringer, is there anything I can do for you in either place?” At her look of confusion, he continued gently, “Perform any errands? Deliver any messages?”

“Charlotte,” Georgiana said, “You wanted to write to James’s firm, did you not?”

“Oh, yes!” Charlotte exclaimed, “Thank you! Mr. Parker, if you would be so kind as to take a letter to the architects, I would be obliged. I need to enclose a key to our lodgings, in case they should need to collect any of… of James’s papers, and I fear to entrust a key to the post.”

“I will do that, gladly,” Sidney said. “If there is anything else I can do for you, I have given your father the best addresses at which I may be reached.”

Charlotte, distracted, merely replied, “That is kind of you, Mr. Parker”; for Jeremy, who had been squirming a little in her arms, now began to fuss. “I will compose the letter directly after breakfast - which my boy needs very soon, I think!” She gave a tiny smile and made for the staircase.

Sidney and Georgiana followed, slowly, by mutual accord. “Would you let me know, from time to time, how she is - and if she is in need of anything?” he asked quietly. 

She regarded him for a few moments, then answered, “I will - though only from time to time. And if she is in want, she may always call on me, you know.”

“Indeed,” he said, with a small, wry smile. “But if there is ever anything I can do….”

“After you have arranged for James’s headstone in Le Havre? I really do not see how you could possibly help.”

“I suppose you are right.” Sidney sighed, helplessly. His former ward gave his arm a gentle pat, then preceded him down the stairs.

\- - - 

“Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Heywood, and thank you again for your hospitality,” Sidney said with a bow. 

He made his way to Charlotte and Georgiana through the crowd of young Heywoods. There, he gave way to an impulse and tousled Jeremy’s scant hair, which made the boy giggle and Charlotte smile just a little. Sidney said, with a glance over her head at Mr. Heywood, “I hope to hear now and then how young Master Stringer is progressing!” He looked down again at her face, gave her a half smile, and said, “I will deliver your letter to James’ firm as soon as I reach London, as you asked. Goodbye, Charlotte.” 

He turned quickly to Georgiana before his voice could break, saying, “Please let me know once you are back in town, Georgiana.”

“I will. Safe journeys, Sidney!”

He bowed again, then climbed into the coach to a chorus of “Safe journeys!”

\- - - - -

This time, **he** was the one driving away, Charlotte thought, lingering for a moment in the courtyard to watch. How odd that just as they had returned to being - well, at least a little more comfortable with each other, he should be gone again. 

Somewhat to her surprise, he had acted as a friend in the last two weeks without asking anything of her in return. Which was fortunate, for she no longer had much to give anyone, except her son, she knew. 

She followed her family inside, feeling the burden that was now solely on her shoulders.

\- - - - -

Alone in the coach as it passed through the village, Sidney could let down his guard and think of his love. His heart had bled to see her this morning in a dark, plain gown, the predecessor to her widow’s dress, with her hair pinned up tightly. 

He wanted instead to remember her in the free-flowing white muslins and loose curls of their summer together - as she had looked at the first regatta, when he had shown her how to row and she had smiled at him shyly as their hands touched. But that memory seemed almost dreamlike to him, now that so much had happened to them both.

\- - -

By the time the coach finally drew near to Sanditon, Sidney had shaken off most of his blue devils and come to one decision, at least. Even if he could think of no other way to help Charlotte now, he could be ready if there ever were an opportunity to do so - by separating his finances from Eliza’s. 

He vowed to rededicate himself to his business, despite the sharp displeasure he could expect from his wife for doing so. No longer would he be only her prize to be shown off at the events of the beau monde. He would rebuild his own fortune, and with it, a little pride in his accomplishments. 

Recovering a sense of being a truly honorable man, however? That, he was not yet sure how to achieve.

\- - - - - - - 

\- - - - - - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and Sidney's plan for his next small step.
> 
> In the next installment - This third summer, continued again:
> 
> * Sidney returns to London, and we see Eliza’s reaction to his absence  
> * Charlotte tries to settle in at Willingden  
> * She and Sidney meet again in Sanditon  
> * In the aftermath, they both make some decisions.
> 
> Comments are always most welcome! It makes my day to see that a new one has been posted!


	5. Summer, 1820, continued - Mid- to Late Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third summer, continued again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alert: Eliza makes an appearance.
> 
> Thank you again for all your engagement with this story!

London

The drive from Sanditon back to London left Sidney irritable and half-exhausted, in addition to dreading the reception he would face. Still, he was relieved finally to pull into the mews behind their house and turn over the team to a groom. Using the servants’ door, he made his way through the warren of halls to one of the stairs leading to the ground floor. 

Their butler had heard his arrival and appeared in the entrance hall shortly after Sidney. As a footman divested him of his hat, greatcoat, and gloves, Sidney asked, “Is Mrs. Parker expecting me for dinner, Jenkins?” 

“No, sir,” the butler replied. “She is attending Lady Glenellen’s masquerade this evening.”

“In that case, please have a tray brought to my study. And I will want a bath later.”

“Very good, Mr. Parker.” The servants bowed and departed.

Idly, Sidney looked through the letters and cards that had collected on a salver on the hall table. There seemed to be more of them than usual - perhaps Eliza had been even busier trying to make social connections that she believed would benefit them. But that was not his affair.

He was expecting household papers to have accumulated on his desk, and they had. Sidney poured himself a small glass of brandy but decided to sit by the fire instead; he would allow himself one more evening before resuming this life on the morrow. He also thought, ruefully, that he should enjoy these last few hours before Eliza came home and assailed him both for his extended absence, and for where - and with whom - he had been while away. 

The entrance of a servant with a tray interrupted his unpleasant thoughts. Sidney found he was not as hungry as all that, and after eating lightly, went up to his dressing room and rang for his valet. At least he could face his wife’s wrath in a state of cleanliness.

Rogers came in, followed by several servants with a hip bath and ewers of hot water. Sidney stripped and sank gratefully into the bath, its warmth easing his muscles. 

“Will you be wanting anything else, sir?” Rogers asked as he collected Sidney’s travel-stained clothing.

“No, just pour me a glass of brandy, would you? And have someone wake me at nine tomorrow, if I have not already arisen.”

The drink near to hand, Sidney scrubbed and sluiced himself clean. Putting on his banyan and slippers, he then slumped into a chair and stared at the fire. Even with all the time he’d had on the trip back to London, he still had no notion of how to explain his actions to Eliza in a way that would not provoke her. And underneath that problem, he also had no new ideas of how to help Charlotte in her widowhood.

\- - - - -

Willingden, that same night

“Charlotte, can you not sleep?” Georgiana asked quietly, in the bed they were sharing. “Turn over and let me rub your back - perhaps that will help.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte said, complying.

Georgiana rubbed small circles on her friend’s back as she asked, “It might help, too, to talk about what is troubling you tonight.”

A small sigh was the response. After a few moments, Charlotte said slowly, “I think it may be because you are leaving tomorrow. Somehow that makes everything seem more real.”

“How so?”

“I will no longer be able to pretend that we were just here to visit my family, and then we would be returning to our usual lives; you to London, and me to Sanditon and - James.”

“I can stay longer, if you wish.”

Charlotte turned to face her in the dark. “No, although I thank you for offering that. No, I need to face my new life, and it will be better to do that soon.”

\- - - - - 

London

The combination of warmth and brandy had lulled Sidney to sleep where he sat. The sound of a falling log woke him; after he’d prodded it back into place, he listened for a moment. Nothing indicated to him that Eliza had come home yet, though when he looked at his pocket watch, it was four in the morning. That was late for her, for a party that she had attended alone. 

He hoped that the ball had been particularly enjoyable. If so, she might be in a slightly more receptive mood than he could otherwise expect.

\- - - 

After being awakened, Sidney dressed as quickly as possible while still meeting the standard that Eliza expected, and hurried down to the breakfast room. Not at all because he was eager to see her, but because he was eager to get the anticipated tongue-lashing over and done with.

However, he found only a footman there, happily with a fresh pot of coffee. Sidney sent him for the housekeeper. 

“Mrs. Armstrong, good morning,” he greeted her. “Has my wife arisen yet?”

“No, Mr. Parker. She came home quite late and asked not to be disturbed until noon.”

“Ah, thank you. That will be all.”

Sidney picked up the newspaper that was set by his place, but merely frowned at it. Now he would either have to cool his heels until Eliza appeared, or leave without seeing her. The former choice would leave him in no good mood to deal with her, and the latter would do the same to her. “Damn it,” he muttered. He was eager to get to his business today. And, away from this house, he could think more freely of Charlotte and what else he might do for her.

After breakfast, however, having decided that the lesser evil was to wait for Eliza, Sidney went to his study. There, he wrote a quick note to the office of Mr. John Soane, then summoned a servant to deliver it and wait for a reply. He wanted to ensure that the senior architect would be available to receive him when he delivered Charlotte’s letter.

Sidney also dashed off a note to his own offices. Then, with a sigh, he started to look over the papers on his desk.

\- - -

After an hour, he had at least sorted the bills into their own pile. He still did not understand how Eliza could spend so much more than her pin money each month. But he would not dispute it with her; he’d seen many a much better marriage founder on that issue.

The door to his study opened without a knock, and his stomach sank as - “Sidney!” his wife exclaimed, coming towards him with her hands outstretched. He rose and went to meet her, then took her hands and bowed slightly before releasing them.

Eliza did not linger but moved to the fireplace, where she held out her hands for warmth. Her back to him, she asked, “The servants said you arrived late yesterday evening?”

“Yes, I traveled straight through from Sanditon.” Hiding his nerves behind a mask of politeness, he continued, “Please excuse my not joining you at Lady Glenellen's; I was too travel-worn to be sociable.”

“Of course.” She gave a little laugh, the one for which he’d never quite determined a meaning, before asking, “And before Sanditon…?”

“Portsmouth, from LeHavre,” he lied, surprised to find how easily it came to him.

“Ah, not from Newhaven then?”

“No, even with the extra distance, the packet to Portsmouth would get me home sooner.”

“I’m glad,” she said, turning to face him. “How was your business in LeHavre?” she asked, in a more pointed tone. “When she wrote, Mary did not explain why you were called there so suddenly.” 

_Thank God,_ he thought; that made it easier to answer calmly. “The business was complicated - difficulties with an important cargo, and my manager there thought it best that I be involved.”

“Was that really necessary?” she asked sharply. “It was quite embarrassing for me to have to explain your absence at all the parties for which we’d already accepted invitations! And then not even being able to explain your reason!”

“Yes, it was necessary. Forgive me,” he said, biting back a sarcastic retort.

Eliza lifted one well-groomed eyebrow. “And you couldn’t at least have written to me yourself?”

He answered as patiently as he could manage, “No, I had to leave immediately to have any chance of making the next boat. Forgive me.”

“Well…,” she gave an annoyed sigh, “... all that business is resolved now?”

“Mostly, yes.” He drew a quick breath before plunging ahead with his ‘news.’ “But I will need to spend much more time at my offices, to investigate this and forestall any similar events.”

Eliza frowned, twisting her hands together slightly. She controlled her voice, though, as she asked, “Must you? I told you, people at parties have been asking after you these past weeks! And when you used to go to your offices regularly, you always came home too late or said you were too tired to go out in the evening.”

“Yes, I must,” he stated firmly. He hurried on, with the half-smile that usually cajoled her, “So I am pleased that you did not limit your activities while I was gone. You must have enjoyed the masquerade last night; you were not yet home when I went to bed, quite late.”

Eliza’s frown lifted and her cheeks grew a little pink as she smiled reminiscently and replied, “Oh, yes, I did. Lady Glenellen had some excellent musicians, and there were several new dances!” She regarded him for a moment, then asked markedly, “You really do not mind that I went without you?”

“Not at all,” he said, going to her and placing a dry, husbandly peck on her cheek, which was their signal that a conversation should end. But he noticed something and asked, “New scent?”

“Yes,” she said with her brightest smile, “It is new, from the south of France. How do you like it?”

Small lies, he could produce easily. “It is quite nice.” In truth, he found it cloying.

“It is, is it not?” she said, moving to the door. “Will you be home for dinner? Not knowing your plans, I accepted an invitation for supper at Mrs. Lurie’s.”

“It depends on what I find at my office. So it is probably best that you not rely on me this evening.”

“Very well,” she said, and left the room.

_That went more easily than I expected,_ Sidney thought with relief. 

He went back to his desk, and out of curiosity, ruffled through the bills. There was no invoice from a perfumer yet, and thus no telling what her new habit might cost. But if it, or other indulgences like it, helped to distract her from his resumption of his business, the expense would not matter. 

\- - -

Once a response arrived from Soane’s office, setting a meeting for late morning the next day, Sidney set out for his own offices.

While many other merchant-traders kept their offices in fashionable parts of town, Sidney had always maintained his near his warehouses. He liked the hustle and bustle, and even the unpleasant smells that wafted in from the Thames could be a pleasant reminder that he’d escaped the stiff formality of the ton - and his marriage. The location also discouraged Eliza from visiting him during the day.

He stepped out of the carriage and paused to survey his small domain. The “S. Parker Trading, Ltd.” sign had been re-painted recently, he noticed, and there was the typical swarm of activity. He made his way into the offices; while various clerks and junior managers acknowledged him, they quickly returned to what they’d been about. Sidney felt revivified by their energy.

He rapped on his senior manager’s open door, then strode across the carpet to his desk. Henlin had worked with him since Sidney first returned from Antigua, and there were few people that he trusted more.

“Mr. Parker!” Henlin exclaimed with a broad smile as they shook hands. “I was delighted to get your note this morning. We have much to discuss!”

“Indeed we do, Mr. Henlin,” Sidney replied, seating himself and gesturing for Henlin to do the same. 

\- - -

After an hour and a half talking over the latest news of various imports, exports, their sources and markets, and where the firm stood with regards to each, Henlin at last fell silent. The manager was frowning and not meeting Sidney’s eyes.

After a few moments of that, Henlin looked up. “There is a problem, sir, that needs your attention. We have been having difficulties with our free-produce goods from the East Indies. In particular, with our sugar.”

“What sort of difficulties?” Sidney asked quickly.

“Quantity and quality, both, and we have not determined the causes. I asked the clerks for those accounts to pull the records for your review.” Henlin gestured to a tall stack of ledgers on a side table.

Sidney groaned to himself. Just as well that he’d warned Eliza not to expect him home in time for a supper party.

\- - - - - 

The next morning, Sidney’s eyes were dry from his late night going through the ledgers. He hoped that his visit today would be more successful than that review had been.

At the architect’s firm, an assistant showed him into an office and said that Sir John would be with him soon. Sidney paced a little, nervously checking that Charlotte’s letter was still in his breast pocket, for he worried that this might be a delicate business.

“Mr. Parker - please forgive my tardiness! Meetings, you know!” exclaimed the lanky gentleman who hurried into the room, but wearing a pleasant smile.

“Of course, Mr. Soane - I too am plagued by them!” Sidney replied. The older man had an appealing liveliness that made Sidney warm to him.

“Now, I imagine that you are here about James Stringer?” At Sidney’s look of surprise, Soane gestured him to a chair and continued, “We had a letter from Mr. Thomas Parker - your brother, I presume?”

“Yes, he is. I, er, was unaware that he had written to your office. But I am here at Mrs. Stringer’s behest, to deliver this letter and enclosure from her.”

“Ah, thank you.” Soane took the letter, opened it, and removed the key, setting that aside as he read the text. When finished, he turned back to Sidney. “You had this from her directly?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“How was she faring?”

Sidney hesitated while he collected himself; he hurt for her whenever he thought of her grief. “She was facing her loss bravely, I thought.”

“I am glad to hear it, though not surprised,” Sloane said. “She is a remarkable young woman; James was very lucky to have married her.”

Sidney could only nod. It still stung him to be reminded that she had married another, but he must learn not to be jealous of a dead man. And it gladdened him to hear the architect praise Charlotte.

Soane had continued, “A terrible thing - a loss to all of us here as well. He showed such promise! And everyone enjoyed working with him, truly. Why, the staff have taken up a collection in his memory!” He looked intently at Sidney. “In fact, Mr. Parker, I would like your advice on what best to do with those moneys on Mrs. Stringer’s behalf.” The architect sighed. “I cannot imagine that she’s been left with much. James had a promising career ahead of him, but it was only because we paid him to do some project supervision as well that he was able to support a wife and child. Most of our apprentices come here much younger and unburdened by such responsibilities.”

Sidney sat up straight, greatly relieved that the other man had broached the subject first. “Sir, I hope I do not speak out of turn when I say that, indeed, Mrs. Stringer has been left with very little; though of course she has her family’s support. There are two ways in which your staff’s contributions might help, however; if you will allow me to speak of them?”

The other man nodded, so Sidney continued. “The brotherhood of masons in Sanditon has promised to pay her keep, and her son’s, as the widow and child of one of their members; perhaps your firm could add to that effort. Or, perhaps - some… friends of the family have started an account to invest in the Funds, to pay for a good education for the boy.”

“Well, then at least the Stringers are assured the basic necessities - I know the brotherhood well, and have never seen a chapter fail to meet their promises. So, it would be good to add the staff’s money to the account for young Jeremy instead, and I will contribute too. Who manages this investment?”

“I do,” Sidney replied.

\- - - 

He left Soane’s office smiling a little, and with a generous cheque. Sidney was already figuring the amount of his own money that he would add when he invested the funds, while attributing the whole contribution to the architect’s firm. Mr. Heywood’s refusal to accept a larger sum for the initial investment had frustrated Sidney; but this gave him an artful way past that barrier.

Sidney had hoped that the architect might have some ideas for other ways to help Charlotte, but no joy was to be had there. Still, he felt that he had found an ally, should she need future help, and that cheered him.

\- - -

Upon returning to his offices, he penned a letter to Mr. Heywood, asking him to let Charlotte know that her letter had been delivered to Mr. Soane. Sidney also mentioned the firm’s contribution to the education account, leaving it to Mr. Heywood to decide whether or not to tell Charlotte about it now. He had to trust her father to know best when she would be receptive to the news.

\- - - - -

Willingden, a few days later

Once she had settled Jeremy in for a nap, Charlotte took the opportunity to go for a walk. As was her habit, she made her way to the river path. She walked a long way along the water’s edge, until the changing angle of the sun suggested that she turn back. A long walk usually helped to settle her thoughts, but today, her mind was still restless.

She was remembering long walks by a different kind of water. Whether it was on the beach, over the rocks, or along the cliff tops, she had loved walking in Sanditon. And she still loved, and greatly missed, the people with whom she had once walked; most of all, of course, James.

Charlotte felt cut off now from her Sanditon friends. Once Georgiana had departed, so had the last easy connection to the outside world. Now, she would have to rely solely on letters, for she could not travel for social occasions during the first six month of her mourning; and visitors from fashionable parts were rare in out-of-the-way Willingdon.

It felt so - unfair that after having lost James, she then should lose everyone outside her little village in this way. Letters were all very well, but they were not the same as conversing.

She picked up a branch from the path and tossed it into the river. Perhaps, she thought, Mrs. Campion had been right, and she should have kept to those people with whom she shared a background. Even if they never seemed interested in things beyond the county.

Charlotte knew she was indulging in self-pity, and that it was a silly thing to sniffle over, when she had greater worries. But she didn’t dare cry in the house for fear of being discovered and then smothered with affection, which somehow only made her feel worse and cry all the more. So she let the tears come as she trudged towards home. 

When, after a few minutes, she looked up from the path while drying her eyes, she saw her father in the distance; he was coming her way at a brisk pace. She hurried to meet him, for she needed company now. As they drew together, she noticed that he was carrying what looked like an opened letter.

When he was close enough, her father called to her with a smile. “Charlotte, my dear, there is news for you from London!” Her heart beat a little faster at the word.

\- - - - -

London, two weeks later

Sidney had settled into a new schedule: spending long days at his offices, followed either by a few bouts at Jackson’s Academy or dinner at a tavern with other traders. Once or twice a week, he dined at home with Eliza or accompanied her to some gathering of the ton. He scarcely saw her otherwise, for she seemed busier than ever with her own social activities. 

When he was with her, Sidney still tried to show an interest in her doings, but Eliza no longer pretended any curiosity about his. Indeed, she greatly preferred that he **not** talk about his business, for she was embarrassed that her husband was again actively engaged “in trade.” 

\- - -

This evening, alone at home, Sidney found himself a bit blue-devilled. Not due to Eliza’s absence to attend yet another rout; he was just as happy to spend a quiet evening at home without stilted conversation. Nor was it really due to the problems with the East Indies free-produce side of his business; though the issues had increased and they had not found the cause, the rest of his affairs were doing better now that he was actively involved. 

No; he recognized that his mood was due to disappointment. He had hoped, foolishly, to hear back from Mr. Heywood about his conversation with Charlotte, at least. But no word had come.

\- - -

A few days later, going through his post in his office, Sidney found a note from Georgiana, with another paper enclosed. It was a letter, addressed to him - in what was, he recognized after a few moments, Charlotte’s handwriting. He had thought he might never see that again once he had hired a business manager to represent him in Sanditon.

He hurriedly broke the seal and unfolded the paper.

_

Mr. Parker,

Please forgive me for not visiting you in person whilst I am in London, but Jeremy has a cold and is miserable with it, and I must return promptly to Willingden once I have vacated our old lodgings here.

My father and Mr. Soane both let me know of your assistance in setting up an investment for Jeremy’s education. I do not know how to thank you enough for your thoughtfulness and effort in this matter. It has relieved me greatly to know that my son’s future has been provided for in this way!

Indeed, I am much obliged to you for all your acts of friendship towards my family in the past weeks. I can only convey my gratitude for them, for I cannot see how I should ever return such consideration as you have shown.

Yours, etc.,  
Charlotte Stringer

P.S. I have not forgotten your kind offer to arrange a headstone for James’ resting place. I have not decided on that; thus I will write again in future.

_ 


Sidney closed his eyes for a few moments, his feelings tossed between happiness at having been of use to her and sorrow at not having seen her when she'd been so near. Then he shook his head, went to his office safe, and unlocked it. Out of it, he took a small strongbox. 

Opening the box with a key from his watchchain, he picked up each of its contents and held the item for a moment, remembering - a handful of shells, dropped in a secluded cove; an invitation to the first Midsummer’s Ball; and a hat ribbon that had been left behind in Sanditon. 

He smiled a little, wryly; it was the collection of a heart-sick fool. But they were his treasures, even if he did not bring them out often. 

He refolded the letter and placed it atop the other remembrances, then put his hand over the whole for a moment as he whispered, “Charlotte, my dear. I love you so.”

\- - - - -

\- - - - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> In the next installment - This third summer, the last segment:
> 
> * Sidney and Charlotte continue to try and settle into their new lives  
> * They meet again in Sanditon  
> * In the aftermath, they both make some decisions.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always most welcome! It makes my day to see that a new one has been posted!

**Author's Note:**

> On the story and Chapter 1: While I've been greatly enjoying other post-Season One stories, I'm not sure that Sidney and Charlotte would be able to be "just friends" so quickly. And although I think that Sidney had no real choice, I want him to ~~pay for~~ live with the consequences of his decision for a while.
> 
> The quotation at the beginning is from Lord Byron's poem "Love and Death."
> 
> This is my first chapter story! Constructive feedback is always welcome.


End file.
